Presently: Improvising

Ever felt like maybe you should’ve stuck to the script? I’ve been feeling like that lately. I had an audition a couple of weeks ago for an episode of a TV show. During the audition, after I had said all my lines (and totally nailed it, might I add), the casting director didn’t stop rolling, so I improvised a little bit. I didn’t book the job, and now I’m wondering if maybe that’s why.

And, a few months back, I blogged about staying single. You guys remember that one. The night I posted that blog, I went on a date, and as I was walking over to the bar, I thought, “How ironic would it be if I fell for this guy?” Well, Alanis Morrisette, it was very ironic.

If you follow me on Instagram, you know, I fell for the guy. I went off script. I had written this beautiful scene for myself where I said goodbye to relationships and embraced being a strong, independent woman. But then, I started to improv a little.

And unlike the previously mentioned audition, I didn’t crash and burn. For the first time in my adult life, I found myself in a stable, supportive, happy relationship. There’s a sentence I never thought I’d be able to type.

Now you’re probably expecting me to write “And we lived happily ever after”, right? Well kid, in Hollywood, things are never that easy. Cinderella didn’t get her Prince without the wicked step-mother, it took seven years for Rachel McAdams to find her way back into Ryan Gosling’s arms, and there’s no story if Julia Roberts isn’t a prostitute.

So, where’s the rub? This week, he moved… 3000 miles away.

I realize that sounds terrible. And it is. Getting used to having a person, and then suddenly not having that person is really, really hard, especially when that person made you really, really happy. I spent a lot of time this week feeling like I was right back to where I was four months ago; alone, sad, and trying to convince myself to embrace my new-found, unwanted, independence.

Plot twist: I’m not going back to where I was four months ago. I’m a different person because of this relationship. Once I put down the Ben and Jerry’s, turned off the Adele music, and stopped feeling sorry for myself, I started feeling gratitude and strength and excitement for the next, un-written scene.

In four months, this guy gave me so much. I know what a healthy relationship is now. I have a better understanding of balance and self-love and what I deserve from a partner. I broke those bad relationship habits that had me running around in circles, chasing after Los Angeles’ finest fuck-boys (sorry for the term, Mom, but there really is no other way to put it).

So maybe, when it comes to love, it’s best not to have a plan. Maybe none of this needs to be written yet. I could probably write some epic end scene, where he stands outside of my bedroom door, holding a jukebox over his head, blasting Peter Gabriel, but if this relationship taught me anything, it’s that life is best lived improvised.